


August Ancestors

by GVSpurlock



Category: Carnivale, Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2497445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GVSpurlock/pseuds/GVSpurlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Undisputed matriarch of the family, August Corbin's gran was slightly mad and entirely beloved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	August Ancestors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muccamukk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/gifts).



Toward the end of her life, August Corbin’s beloved gran split her time snoozing in the library and demanding volumes be brought to her bedside. Undisputed matriarch of the family, she was slightly mad and entirely beloved. She told fabulous tales to the younglings of the Sleepy Hollow witches and their covenants, demons and monsters, ghosts and goblins.

“Gussie,” August’s mother complained, “The boy’s obsessed. He’s drawing monsters on his homework and reading ghost stories in the locker room. Can’t you talk to him about history instead? Or, you know, baseball?”

The old woman scowled. “He should know the family history.”

“You’re not still on about Brother Justin!”

That was the end of that conversation.

***

“The Antichrist?” Jenny asked incredulously.

Corbin nodded.

“Really?”

He handed over a scrapbook, stuffed full of dust and addenda. “This was my grandmother’s.”

A photo slithered out. Black-and-white, with a long scratch in the upper right corner, it showed a solemn man and woman standing near each other, but not touching. The man could have been Corbin’s twin, absent his considerable warmth and charm.

“How on earth… he looks just like you!”

The sheriff took a slug of his coffee, swirling the remainder in the cup. “Genes are a bitch.”

Jenny frowned her “I’m-Thinking-of-Abbie” frown and muttered, “No shit.”

***

Abbie was on cleanup duty after the Halloween parade, wearing the neon orange vest required for teens serving their community service hours. The other three delinquents were further up the road while the sheriff supervised. He leaned against a squad car and squinted at the latest edition of the Sleepy Hollow Gazette.

“You need glasses, old man.”

Corbin raised an eyebrow but declined to respond further.

Another hour passed and the wind started to pick up, causing some debris to float down the road with a veritable storm of crunchy autumn leaves. Abbie’s area was swept clean, while her counterparts’ filled again with trash. She sat on the hood of the squad car, peering over the sheriff’s shoulder. He was doing the crossword.

“Pretty sure they spelled doppelgänger wrong.”

“It’s hard to include an umlaut in a crossword puzzle.”

Abbie chewed on that for a moment.

“Why’d you become a cop?” she asked suddenly.

“Why did you become a thief?”

Abbie shrugged.

Corbin felt unwontedly hesitant. Did he give her the line or the truth? Did it matter? Somehow, perhaps, he thought it did. The Mills sisters were all tied up in the mythology that weighed so heavily on their tiny little corner of New York.

“I owed it to my family to do some good.”

Abbie scowled, not liking that answer. She tried to interrupt, but he continued.

“And my family owed it to the world. The Corbins… the Crowes… they were collectively a blight on humanity. I pay that debt. As much as I’m able.”

She looked at him strangely, then shook off the strange mood that had taken over the now-tidy street. 

“Whatever you say, old man.”

“Lemme buy you a piece of pie. You did good work today, kid.”

No one in their right mind passed up free pie, so Abbie shrugged and followed him to the diner, vest slung over one shoulder.


End file.
